


No, Parvis.

by Sjips



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: No Slash, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjips/pseuds/Sjips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parv discovers fanfiction and is understandably amused.  Strife is having none of that.  RPF, no slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No, Parvis.

Parv loves working with Will. They are a match made in heaven, as Lewis likes to joke. And sure, Parv understands. They’re yin and yang; peanut butter and jelly. He loves working with the motivated, problem-solving guy. But more specifically, he loves annoying Will. Sure, they get things done; like scheduling out minecraft episodes, defeating demons in their series, organizing and gather materials, etc. But Parvis lives to pull pranks and make fun of Strife. Will isn’t really that dumb. He can roll with the punches, and Parvis has learned he has to stay on his toes to get the best of Will Strife: solutions master.

Then one day Parvis finds fanfiction. Not on purpose; he was just Googling his name, as everyone does at some point, but he’d failed to really realize the implications of having a massive fan following online. The _art,_ for one, he hadn’t expected - yeesh, blood everywhere, come on, just because he’s a blood mage in a computer game doesn’t mean he bathes in the stuff. And then one of the webpages catches his eye - he sees “Parvill”. Parvill? Parv . . . Will?

He’s not unfamiliar with the idea of online “shipping,” but he’d never expected to see his name there. He clicks on the link.

-

It’s an hour later and Parv is laughing so hard he’s practically crying. Just - oh my _god._ It’s too good. And then he hears the tell-tale boop noise that signifies someone’s trying to Skype him. And then he sees Will’s name. And he starts laughing again.

The problem was, the last story involved some... interesting positions. Honestly, he tried to wrap his mind around what their bodies were doing, and there’s _no way_ these things were physically possible. Seeing Will’s name conjures up the mental images again, and makes him nearly crack a rib laughing. He’s still out of breath when he presses the accept button.

“Hey buddy, are you about ready to record some episodes?” Will’s voice filters out of Parvis’ computer speakers.

A brilliant plan emerges in Parv’s head. He’ll wait till they’re deep in a recording session, then casually start reciting some of the fanfiction to Will and see what happens.

“Mmmhm.” Parv agrees, “I can’t wait to start.” He cracks a maniacal grin, knowing this is something Will would never expect.

-

They’re an hour into the session when Parv finally decides to “tell Will a story.” Will sighs his usual grumpy sigh, but Parv is already starting his recitation.

“Parvis was standing by the door waiting when Strife returned. ‘Alex,’ Strife murmured. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to still be here.’ ‘How could I have left?’ Parvis whispered, his eyes glowing in the dark like bright moonlit orbs. He leaned in close to Strife, their eyes staring deeply into the others’ as -”

“Oh. My. _God._ Parvis.” Will says, and Parv can practically hear the punctuation. “You did not just read me fanfiction about us kissing.”

“Uh… Yeah. I did.” Parv says matter of factly.

“No Parvis. Just no.” Will sounds decidedly unsettled. And angry.

Parv grins, glad they have an ocean and miles of technology separating them. It makes it so much easier to go on when the threat of bodily harm isn’t present.

“Oh. Well if you don’t like that I do have some others.” He says, “It’s amazing what you can find on the internet!”

“No Parv. No.” Will says, grumpiness and alarm radiating from his tone.

“Parv bites Strife’s tongue, and Strife moans loudly as he tastes his own blood in his mouth. It shouldn’t taste this good. It’s intoxicating. Then Parv reaches around behind Strife and -”

“God dammit Parvis.” Will is exasperated, his tone terse. “We’re going to have to cut all of this out of our recording session, and dammit I am not comfortable with you reading this shit.”

Parv is having too much fun.

“Well… Alright. I mean… ‘Beg me,’ Alex said as stroked Will’s turgid member. Will didn’t respond, simply moaning aloud. Alex pulled his hand away and firmly gripped Will’s chin. ‘Beg me,’ he said firmly, and finally Will opened his mouth and said -”

**W_Strife has disconnected.**

-

Parv doesn’t hear from Will for a week.

Thankfully they have enough stockpiled footage and don’t have to worry about new recordings for quite a while, but Parv is worried. You see, Parv only gets one message in reply to the 30 he sends to Will over the course of a week.

“No Parvis” is all it says.

Parv can practically hear Will’s angry voice saying it.

He’s beginning to regret what happened.

-

Will Strife would describe himself as even tempered.

Will Strife would consider himself a solutionist.

Will Strife cannot find a solution to his “Parvis Problem.”

So he ignores Parvis’ messages, frankly he ignores Parvis entirely. It starts out working pretty well. Then the letters start arriving.

They are long, and rambling, as he’d expect from Parvis. What’s more is that they’ve been Fed-Ex’d to him Next-Day from the UK, which Strife knows perfectly well is ridiculously expensive.

“Jesus, Parvis,” he mutters aloud to himself as he sorts through the three he’s received on this day alone. He can’t quite bring himself to read them all the way through; he keeps them stacked up on his kitchen table, a testament to his unsolvable problem.

It’s only when he receives ten letters at once, seven days after the mishap, from the understandably confused Fed-Ex guy, that he accepts that something has to be done. “Tell your boyfriend to buy a freaking telephone,” the Fed-Ex guy mutters uncharitably as Strife grudgingly accepts his letters.

“Sorry,” Strife mutters back, not bothering to correct the guy - he’s already halfway down the walk.

So Strife drops off the letters on the pile on the table, and makes his way over to his desk. He pauses, resting his chin on his hands for a few moments before he sits up, decisively, and clicks on the Skype icon.

-

Parvis hardly believes his eyes when he sees the message from Strife - one moment he’s busy plucking at his guitar and humming some melody or other, and the next, he sees the message pop up on his screen:

W_Strife: Ok, Parv.  
W_Strife: Whatever.  
W_Strife: New rule though: no stories unless I’M doing the telling.  
ACParvis: :D  
ACParvis: Ok. Can we record some episodes today? I’m dying to show you my new pickaxe! It’s even better than Picky, and Steven has missed you…….


End file.
